


a dress

by aislingthebard



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, trash otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9106705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingthebard/pseuds/aislingthebard
Summary: Persephone tries to buy some dresses





	

Silk? Satin? Gauze? Or heavy brocade?

Persephone slid her fingers across the table filled with fabrics, feeling their softness, their quality. Their colors ranged from gold to burnished copper and the tailor followed her every movement and waited for a decision. A whole bunch of them had taken her measurements. Young girls, giggling and pinching and reminding her of a flock of silly birds. Always chirping and making her regret her decision to allow such a vanity. 

Persephone rubbed her neck and tied the silken scarf tighter around her middle.

Where to start? She'd never wasted time on shopping for dresses, but Gaspard insisted that as his betrothed a new wardrobe was in order. Her light armors and favorite leathers were already banned and her lover unmoved by her arguments. And she also needed to decide on a mask. The House colors of the de Chalons and her own one. Persephone needed to write a letter and ask about the Trevelyan heraldry. Something with horses most likely.

“Maybe I could interest you in a corset made of fishbone? Those are far more flexible than those made of other bones.” The stout woman held up a fine piece of clothing, which reminded Persephone of a prison.

“Eh. Not now. Thanks.”

What a strange idea. To trap your tits in a dead animal. But Persephone kept her mouth shut and shrugged.

“I need at least six dresses. Can't you just surprise me?” High collars were absolutely fashionable this season, not to mention pearls, delicately stitched upon thin fabrics and feathers on your ears. Persephone couldn't imagine herself in such kind of clothing. She'd feel silly, all dressed up and scars showing beneath thin gauze. 

“No, my lady.” 

Well, it had been worse a try.

“I'll take the gold one and the copper one... Maybe something in red?” Persephone adored red, as far as colors went. Reminded her of blood and fire and a sun.

Her tailor shook her head. “Red is not favored right now.” 

“Ah, how sad.”

And boring. Her fingers itched to grab a sword and hit a man made of straw. Or Gaspard, who'd put her right into this situation, after he'd ask for her hand. 

“Maybe a cut to, well, conceal your shoulders?”

“My shoulders?”

Lucky for her, both of them went silent, as the Emperor of Orlais entered the room. His appearance demanded respect, but instead of doing a courtesy like the tailor, Persephone crossed her arms in front of her chest.

His eyes were on hers, half hidden by the shadows of his mask. “Leave.” 

With the woman gone, he got closer and Persephone smelled the brandy on his breath. He'd already been drinking, maybe enjoying his last weeks of being a bachelor, or being bored with his advisors and politics.

“Are you naked beneath this?” Gaspard loosened the bindings scarf around her middle and exposed her bare skin. 

“Delightful.” His thumb was brushing her neck and breasts and traveled til her lower stomach, when Persephone caught his wrist.

“I don't want to marry you any longer.”

Gaspard used his other hand to open the robe a bit further. “Hm.”

Persephone expected at least a small shock, or a sigh of distress, but his fingers found her breast, and his pupils looked huge and black.

“I see, you're not listening.”

“How could I? Your breasts are keeping me occupied. They're all there … inviting and all.” Gaspard chuckled and she caught his other hand.

“Maybe you should buy a pig and marry it instead. They got six pairs of them.”

“But a pig doesn't look as shapely as you in a dress.”

“The shit I do for love.” Persephone kissed him, pressing her body against cold armor, wrapping her arms around his neck. Gaspard's mouth found her neck and he whispered against the skin.. 

“You could do me instead.”

“Ugh. Subtle.”

By now, the robe lay on the ground completely forgotten and Gaspard fumbled with the bindings of his attire. “Never claimed to be.”


End file.
